


tall, blond, and sugary

by postfixrevolution



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: M/M, POV Third Person Omniscient, Romantic Comedy, also silas is a little shit whom i love, coffee shop AU, gay boys being gay, hope you enjoy takumi's inner monolgue bc he's a hUGE DORK, meetcute kinda, minor language, modern day AU, published pre-game release so sorry if OOC, this is so fluffy and silly kiLL ME
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5612218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they meet, Takumi spills strawberry frappuccino on him. That's an accident. He also straddles him. Still an accident. Furthermore, he <i>may</i> have expressed a not-too-subtle interest in his relationship status. Takumi still isn't sure if that was accidental or on purpose yet. </p><p> </p><p>coffee shop AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	tall, blond, and sugary

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to me; this is so silly and self indulgent and I regret absolutely nothing
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so forgive any little mistakes, and enjoy~!

Takumi doesn't think twice about casually cockblocking his best friend and his sister for the nth time until it lands him in his current situation. Forget the fact that said friend had finally come to terms that he was utterly whipped for his childhood friend; he'll kill Silas, he decides. He'll cut him into a hundred separate pieces and scatter those in the ocean, then he'll tell Kamui that her childhood sweetheart was actually hopelessly in love with their lesbian cousin and that the two eloped. There might be a continuity error in there somewhere, but Takumi is beyond caring. Serves the short haired boy right. 

Anyway. The present situation. It's terrible, really. Horrendous. Honestly, he's going to get _fired_ , and it's all Silas's fault. The boy in question is just a few feet behind him, trying and failing to bite back raucous snickers, and Takumi wonders when he got such shitty friends. Gods, he's going to _kill_ him. 

"Ahem, I'd like to see your manager," a tight voice grinds out. Takumi flinches at the words, unable to help his pained grimace. The blond boy that stands before him is covered with strawberry frappuccino, the pleasantly pink concoction contrasting terribly with the black and cobalt of his button up and scarf, and Takumi prays to any existing deities that the clothes aren't as expensive as they look. A sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that he's probably wrong, and it sounds annoyingly like the voice in his head that adds in that he's an atheist. See, this is why he doesn't believe in deities; anything worth believing in obviously hates him. 

"I'll go get her!" Silas chirps helpfully, and Takumi tosses a murderous look over his shoulder, one that is met only with a brilliant smile. Dead. Silas is dead to him. With controlled breath, he turns back to the customer before him. 

"Sorry," he mutters lamely, shifting the half empty cup to one hand and grabbing a handful of napkins off the counter with the other. He holds them out and tries hard not to meet the boy's eyes, too busy staring shamefully at the ground and forcefully willing away an embarrassed blush. Surprisingly slender fingers briskly snatch the napkins away and begin dabbing away at the fabric methodically, a soft cluck of the tongue escaping his mouth. Takumi dares a glance upward as the boy is distracted by his clothing, and the first thing he notices is his eyes. Annoyed as his gaze is, the amethyst color of his irises is striking; he's never seen anything like it before, and the sight is undeniably alluring. He has regal nose and an elegant jaw, every bit the aristocratic aura that his state of dress implies, and with a jolt, Takumi realizes: he's kind of attractive. 

Wait, what? 

He blinks, shakes his head to sharply. A second glance at the boy reveals something more along the lines of what he'd expected: his face is relatively impassive, but Takumi can read the annoyance in his amethyst eyes, can see the tense clench of his jaw. It's a scary sort of unaffectedness, like when Kamui smiles at him after he tears out the intricate braid she'd put his hair in as he slept, or when Hinoka finds out that he'd taken the last cup of jasmine tea at dinner time. A shudder trickles down his spine involuntarily. 

The boy holds out a fistful of soggy napkins. Takumi blinks at them blankly for a moment before snapping back to his senses, taking them from his hand dutifully. As he sets both the half empty drink and the napkins down on the counter, the boy speaks, voice pleasantly low. 

"You know, you'd probably trip less often if you learned to tie your shoelaces correctly," he comments, and hazel eyes fly confusedly to his feet. True to the blond's words, the laces on both shoes are tied neatly together, and Takumi has painful feeling as to whose work that is. He bends down and undoes the knot viciously. Kamui's going to need a new not-yet-lover at this rate, because he is going to kill Silas at least three times. Maybe he'll pin him to his target and try out the new target arrows the boy had just bought him. Ironic _and_ satisfying. 

"Goddamn it, Silas," he curses under his breath, and the blond boy arches a curious eyebrow at him. Takumi doesn't have any further chance to explain before the devil he had just spoken of materializes. 

"I'm back with Manager!" he announces, running up behind Takumi and smacking him with both hands across his back. A startled shout escapes his throat as the strike throws him off balance, and he stumbles forward, directly into the blond. The both of them fall to the ground with a dull thud, and when his head stops spinning, he's face to face with porcelain skin and amethyst eyes. His palms are pressed against the wood floor in either side of the boy's head and he's straddling him. 

Great. _Great_. 

Takumi can't will away the sunburn-red flush of his cheeks this time, the sudden skyrocket of his pulse, and he swears mentally. If there are any gods out there, he silently laments, he'll convert to their religion without so much as a single complaint if they strike him off the face of this earth, right now. Also Silas. Preferably before him, so he can die with the blissful knowledge that his piece of shit best friend was finally dealt the vengeance that Takumi had sworn upon him. He waits a moment, maybe for some random strike of lightning, but when nothing happens, he resists the urge to roll over and die. 

"I'm so s-sorry," he stutters weakly, pushing himself off the boy and rocking back to his feet. He holds a hesitant hand out for him to grab, and he can't stop the relieved sigh that puffs past his lips when he takes it. 

"It's, er– it's fine," the blond coughs, a pained frown pulling subtly down at his lips. After pulling him back to his feet, Takumi releases his hand like it is fire, shoving his own hands into his apron pockets and turning hazel eyes pleadingly to the manager. Mikoto shoots him an apologetic look before stepping forward, a picture-perfect smile adorning her face. 

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience we've caused you, sir," she begins diplomatically. "We can give you a change of clothes so you can get yours properly dry cleaned, and we'll be glad pay for both your drink and your cleaning costs. Right, Takumi?" she adds, glancing at him. 

"Oh. Yeah," he agrees. "Of course. In fact," he says, fumbling around in his pant pockets, "here." He pulls out his wallet, sliding out a five and handing it to the blond. 

Amethyst eyes blink. "That strawberry frappuccino wasn't mine." 

Takumi internally winces. "Just take it," he grinds out, shaking the bill insistently. "And when you get your stuff cleaned, come back with the receipt and I'll pay for that, too." 

He stares at the bill for a moment, and then at him, blinking oddly. Takumi almost snaps at him, throwing the slip of paper at his face, but he tugs it out of his fingers, pockets it wordlessly. Silas appears again at his friend's side, this time holding out a set of eerily familiar looking clothes. Takumi's eyes widen when he realizes just whose they are, but Mikoto places a hand on his shoulder before he can react, light eyes shooting him a warning glance. Takumi grits his teeth and watches the grey-haired boy give away his spare change of clothes. 

"Thank you," the blond says politely, and he heads briskly off in the direction of the bathroom. As soon as he is gone, Takumi rears on his companion. 

"What the fu—" 

"Look," he interrupts defensively, "Mrs. Mikoto told me to get him something to change into, and you're the only dude that brings spare clothes with them to work! We can't exactly give him Orochi's dress, you know?" 

The purple haired girl at the register perks up at the mention of her name, narrowing make-upped eyes at her coworkers. 

"Are you guys coming back to work any time soon, because I just had to take two orders and remake a strawberry frappuccino at the same time," she deadpans, fixing the two of them with an irritated glare. 

"Orochi is right," Mikoto states. "You two get back to work, and I'll deal with our customer if he needs anything else. And Takumi, I think we need to have a conversation about today's events after your shift." 

Takumi scowls. "But, okaa-san–!" 

"Takumi, we're at work." 

He clucks his tongue. "Alright, fine, but what about Silas? He pushed me earlier, _and_ he tied my shoelaces together, which caused me to trip!" 

Beside him, Silas winces. "Guilty," he murmurs defeatedly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'll stay behind after my shift, too, Mrs. Mikoto." 

"Alright, good," she hums pleasantly. "Now, get back to work, you two." 

"Took you two long enough," Orochi sniffs as they trudge back behind the counter. "Luckily, it's not too busy right now, so man the register as I go to the restroom. If blondie comes back, his drink's by the coffee grinder." 

The boys settle into place as the girl bustles off, and as soon as she's out of eyesight, Silas sidles up beside Takumi, a shit-eating smile on his face as he shoulders him lightly. 

"What," he sneers, glaring venomously at him. 

"That blond guy was kind of hot," the short-haired boy notes, nodding his head appreciatively. Takumi resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, instead using his hand to shove Silas away by the face. 

"I thought you were disgustingly straight for my sister," he snaps. 

Silas bats the hand away, somehow managing to remain annoyingly chipper as he replies, "I would be, but this asshole keeps on cockblocking me every time I try to ask her out. Rude, right?" 

Takumi snorts unceremoniously. "Nah; he sounds like my kind of guy," he replies snidely. 

"Oh? You sure you don't go for the more strawberry frappuccino-covered ones? Tall, blond, and sugary?" 

He splutters aimlessly for a moment, trying to bite back a crimson blush. Verdant eyes him curiously, and he sniffs at him, turning up his nose and crossing arms primly. 

"What if," he begins petulantly, "I tell Kamui that you're gay and you confessed to me, so I'm currently pity dating you." He narrows his eyes, gauges the boy's reaction. Silas maintains an impressively straight face as he considers the sentence for an exaggerated amount of time, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

"I mean, I've never kissed a guy before, but I guess there's a first time for everything." Takumi rolls his eyes, biting back a small laugh. "Alright, I've got it!" Silas exclaims, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. Verdant eyes fix the long haired boy with a deadly serious look, and he grabs one of Takumi's wrists in both hands. "Takumi, be my boyfriend." 

"Er, am I... interrupting something?" a smooth voice cuts in, and Takumi all but throws Silas's hands back at him, turning to face the newcomer with a terse smile. Luck would have it that it's the same blond boy from before, looking sinfully attractive in his favorite blue sweatshirt. Takumi trues to swallow the rabbit-like pulse in his throat. 

"No, nothing at all," he insists, shaking his head frantically. "My friend is just a complete idiot." 

The boy nods slowly, as if unconvinced, but politely doesn't push the subject any further. Takumi curses everything. 

"Is your manager still around, by the way? I wanted to thank her for the spare clothes and tell her I'll be back in a few days with the cleaning receipt." 

"Ah, she's in the back," Silas offers in a surprisingly helpful fashion. "Hold on, I'll get her." 

The blond boy nods, and Silas bustles off, leaving Takumi to fend for himself amidst the growing awkward silence. Hazel eyes flit around restlessly, trying not to stare too long at the way his sweatshirt stretches over the other boy's shoulders, the collar barely low enough to expose the top of his collarbone. He forces his gaze away after that, staring at the workstation intensely. His eyes catch on a lone cup by the coffee grinder, and he blinks, remembering Orochi's words suddenly. Leaning over, Takumi picks up the cup, peeking curiously at the name scrawled in the girl's loopy script. 

_Leo_. 

He glances at the boy's blond hair and decides that it fits. 

"Um," he starts eloquently, and amethyst eyes fly up to his. "I really am sorry about the whole spill thing," he grumbles, turning the cardboard cup around restlessly in his fingers. "Oh, and this is yours, by the way." He thrusts the drink out stiffly, waiting for the boy to take it. 

Leo blinks, cataloguing Takumi's averted eyes, his outstretched hand. 

"Water under the bridge," he says, easily taking the drink. Hazel eyes look up to see the beginnings of a small smile tugging up at his lips. The boy extends a hand over the counter, and it takes Takumi a good moment to process why. He eventually takes the proffered hand, shaking it awkwardly. Leo thankfully doesn't comment on his stiffness. "I'm Leo, by the way. And you're Takumi, if I'm not wrong?" 

"Yeah," he replies automatically. "How'd you know?" 

"Name tag," Leo tells him slyly. 

"Oh," he says dumbly. He's spared any further embarrassment by the soft ping of a cellphone, and Leo slips out his phone, peering briefly at the screen. A small frown flashes across his face, and Takumi can't help but be intrigued. "Girlfriend?" he asks casually, silently applauding his low-key subtlety. 

Amethyst eyes flick up to hazel. A small smirk spreads out on his face, and it makes Takumi's pulse stutter. 

"Sister," he responds. "And an angry one, at that. I suppose I can't wait for your manager, but I trust you can relay my message just as well." 

Takumi nods. "Of course. Nice meeting you, Leo. And really; I'm –" 

"Stop apologizing," the blond cuts him off simply, a knowing glint in his eye. "And it was a pleasure making your acquaintance, too. I'll be sure to remember your name," he adds cryptically. 

Takumi arches an eyebrow at him. Leo just picks up his drink, takes a long sip from it as he flicks the boy an impromptu salute and heads to the exit. Hazel eyes watch him go, and when he pauses by the door, they blink quizzically. 

"You're not actually wearing your name tag, by the way," he quips pleasantly. "Your name was on the tag of this sweatshirt, and I deduced it was yours based on your reaction when your friend handed it to me. It smells nice," he finishes mischievously, and he's out the door before Takumi completely registers just what he said. 

When Silas walks out of the back room with Mikoto in tow, Takumi is standing behind the register alone, a blank look on his face and a crimson flush painted across his cheeks. 

* * *

"Hey, cover for me while I grab a refill for the coffee machine," Takumi tells Orochi, not even waiting for her blasé grunt of acknowledgement before heading into the back room. 

It's been four days since he's last seen Leo, and he's beginning to miss his favorite blue sweatshirt, never mind the blond himself. So distracted has he been by wondering when the boy would return that he hadn't actively been keeping up his never-ending task of keeping his best friend's love life annoyingly nonexistent. He walked into his sister's room the other day to steal his hairbrush back, only to find the two of them kissing messily at her desk. Takumi shudders at the memory, rubbing a still tender spot on his forehead. The book Kamui pelted at him was painfully sharp, and the bruise – hidden thankfully behind his bangs – has yet to fade. Shitty best friends _and_ shitty sisters. Just his luck. 

Takumi swings the backroom cupboards open, coughing past a cloud of dust and loose coffee powder. He blinks the particles away, pushing back bag after bag of coffee in search of the elusive decaf mix that they had finally finished. It takes a few minutes of arduous rearranging, but Takumi eventually emerges from the backroom with fresh supplies in tow. Upon his return, Orochi mutters a soft, "Finally." and brushes past him, a half finished caramel latte in hand. He sets to work refilling the machine beside her. 

"Oh yeah, that blond guy you royally fucked over the other day dropped by while you were out, by the way," she tells him absently. Takumi almost drops the bag of coffee all over himself. "Said he didn't have time to stay, but left you that bag over there. Mentioned something about not worrying about the dry cleaning." 

Takumi dumps the rest of the coffee into the machine hurriedly, squashing the cellophane bag into the trash and rushing to the aforementioned parcel Leo had left behind. Sitting neatly inside the paper bag is his favorite blue jacket, a folded slip of paper sitting primly atop it. The receipt, most likely, and he picks it up, unfolds it carefully. 

At the top is the logo for Touma Cleaners, but where the price would normally be printed, there is a thick permanent marker line, effectively blotting it out. Written in an elegant scrawl above it are the words ' _dinner and a movie_ ' and 10 digits. A phone number. 

Takumi drops the paper, hand flying up to cover the violent red blush blossoming across his cheeks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue: 
> 
> The paper lands with a soft swish back in the bag, and hazel eyes flicker down toward it, and to the sweatshirt inside. Carefully, he pulls it out, lets the familiar feel of the fabric wash over his akin. Stroking absent fingers against the cloth, he wonders if Leo had washed it, too, and brings the sweatshirt up to his face, sniffs it tentatively. 
> 
> It smells like neither the coffee shop scent that stains almost all his clothes, nor the telltale fragrance of laundry detergent, lavender and sterile at the same time. The scent that permeates the worn threads of the sweatshirt is something completely different, something aged and sharp – old books and ink, maybe. He breathes in again, and there's the barely there scent of something sugary and painfully familiar. Strawberries, Takumi realizes with a small smile. This must be what Leo smells like, he thinks, and when he considers that, there's really nothing that could fit more.


End file.
